More than a race: what I learned through my first Formula One experience

Scurrying towards the entrance to the R2 train at Clot with my phone in hand, I quickly grabbed my metro card located in my small black bag that only included my wallet, Chapstick, charging cord, and sunscreen.

After double-checking Apple Maps to see if I entered the correct location, I looked around the train station and asked the nearest woman where I needed to go. We didn’t understand each other, as I only know a few phrases in Spanish, but we communicated efficiently.

Going down the stairs, I let out a sigh of relief as I saw a multitude of Formula One shirts. From Ferrari, Red Bull, McLaren, Aston Martin and many others, I knew I was headed in the right direction.

It was a Friday afternoon, June 12 in Barcelona, Spain. I was talking to a classmate just hours ago about the F1 Barcelona Grand Prix weekend near us. She told me that Friday’s tickets were only 30 euros on Stubhub, and I couldn’t resist the offer.

During this time, I only knew a handful about F1 and didn’t bother doing too much research before stepping on the train. I got too cocky as I thought only knowing the teams, the majority of the drivers, and that whoever finishes first on the last lap was enough.

Time would prove me wrong.

As the R2 train arrived, I quickly stepped inside with the other F1 fans, and kept Apple Maps open.

This is where the humiliation ritual begins.

As the train started moving, the Screenager in me panicked. My phone was completely void of service. No Apple Maps. No blue dot. There were screens inside the train, but I was clumsy and didn’t double-check which stop to exit. I started to break a small sweat.

As the train continued to move, my phone service came back. But it was absolute garbage. Apple Maps betrayed me. Nothing could load. As the train kept moving and stopping, I stood frozen.

We stopped at Montmeló, and all of the F1 fans wasted no time heading towards the train’s exit.

Guess who didn’t move? Me.

Sooooo…Long story short. I missed my stop.

It was stupid of me to go meet up with my other classmates completely by myself. You know what they say: It’s foolish for a man to explore the wilderness alone.

At the next stop, I stepped outside and saw nothing but red sandy plains and cursed under my breath. I was practically in the middle of nowhere.

But no worries! I crossed to the other side of the train station to head the opposite direction back to the F1 practice rounds.

By the time I got on the train it was already past 3 p.m…I was quite late arriving to my destination.

Despite the minor hiccup I sat down excited for my journey ahead.

Friday, June 12: Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya — Practice Round 1

Exiting the train station to Montmeló, I stopped being stubborn and actually followed the F1 jerseys, with my Apple Maps also pulled up.

Though I wasn’t aware that I signed up to hike a trail.

Luckily, there were multiple food vendors lined on our way to the track, so I was able to smile a little through this long walk.

I grabbed a cheese sandwich and a bottle of water to avoid my body betraying me along the way and simply disassociated as I tried to get over the desert-like weather and make it to the track before it was over.

At last, I made it to the ticket booth and gave my phone to the ticket attendant for scanning.

As I took some stairs up, I took in the chilling sounds around me. The cars. They were much louder than expected, but very satisfying to hear. Satisfying enough to make you flinch as chills run up your arms and neck.

The sound of the cars sparked a sense of ambition, a sense of intense and fierce competition.

I couldn’t wait to find my classmate and sit down.

As I walked the race track, I took in the beautiful scenery. The mountains, city, and roads in the background. I felt like I was a part of the Cars franchise.

I was still curious about one aspect though. Why was F1 so popular? What made this a national event?

There are other motorsports such as NASCAR and IndyCar, but what made F1 the largest out of the three?

I pulled aside a man named Mark Summer, who traveled from Germany. Like many others at the circuit, he was wearing gear of his favorite driver.

“So, what do you love about F1 in general?”

“It’s the experience around it to support your favorite driver or the action.”

“Do you have a favorite driver?”

“Yes, Max Verstappen.”

Taking in the conversation, I came to realization of how important the F1 drivers were to fans.

There’s a special intimacy between the drivers and the fans, similar to the relationship between a pop star and their fan base.

After the conversation, I headed down to a general admission section and found my friend walking from an ice cream vendor. We exchanged greetings, and I followed them to a open section that had boards of every driver from each team.

As I watched fans take selfies and photos with their favorite driver displayed on the boards, I realized the emotional impact these drivers had on their fans.

Watching people pretend to put their arm around the drivers, make kissy faces, and take photos in the middle of their team was a fun sight, and I couldn’t help but participate.

I took a photo with Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc, the drivers of Ferrari. Why not? I always liked Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc was a relatable figure who I believed had great ambition.

Soon after photos were taken, my friends and I got some pizza as we sat down in the shade. Everything tasted delicious, but the pizza….pricey. Around 10 euros….yeesh. But this is F1, it’s too optimistic to expect not to spend a pretty penny.

At last, the last thing we did was purchase merchandise. I purchased the cheapest Ferrari shirt along with a black F1 baseball cap.

Unfortunately, this day was quite….underwhelming. I took pictures of some of the cars as they passed by, but I didn’t sit down and really take everything else in. I was already overwhelmed and lost energy quickly due to the lack of preparation I had for this event.

And to top it off…my phone died.

Event finished.

However, I’ll quickly talk about the absolute terror it was getting back home.

The crowds piling back onto the train was a nightmare, and it was only the first day of the Grand Prix. The skin-to-skin contact, the heat due to everyone’s body heat, and the constant standing for hours. It just couldn’t get worse.

After finally getting back on the train, I looked out the windows still filled with questions: Why did fans have such a connection to these drivers they never met? What made the event worth enduring the heat? What else makes the race interesting?

Sunday, June 14: Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya — Final Race

Instead of the small black bag, I grabbed a larger tote and stuffed it with medicines, sunscreen, my wallet, two portable chargers, a handheld fan, and an umbrella. After my first day at the circuit, I refused to step into the final day unprepared.

I left for the train station early and arrived at the circuit around two hours before the race started. This time I separated from friends and took on F1 alone.

While walking the circuit for thirty minutes to familiarize myself with the general admission sections and vendors, I found a comfy field with plenty of space.

There were many people lined up at the top of the field, sitting under umbrellas tied on their foldable chairs. Finding a small gap between them, I walked down a semi-steep hill and pulled out my umbrella.

The air was a tad dry, with the weather telling the public that it was allegedly 89 degrees. Absolutely not. Despite blocking the sun under my umbrella, It felt closer to 95 degrees.

Then, I heard a radio from slightly above. One individual under a large umbrella had turned on the pre-race radio!

Thank goodness! I was worried, as the place I was located had no TV screens, and the network wasn’t the greatest.

“With World Cup underway, it’s football fever gripping the sporting world. F1 engines never stop running, and we’re ready to race in Barcelona!”

I was exactly where I needed to be.

Race start

Thirty minutes before the race started, I was in line for a cold bottle of water and a Pepsi. It was scorching hot.

While waiting in line, I reflected back on the experience I was having. The community, the culture, the fandom. F1 is special. It brought people together internationally.

After grabbing my drinks, I started a conversation with a Barcelona local my age. I introduced myself as a student journalist from the United States writing an article searching for input on F1.

“I’m not a fan. I don’t know much of the sport, but my grandfather? He’s in love with it.”

I was a tad disappointed as I was searching for detailed answers, but of course it’s absurd to think everyone else at the circuit had it all figured out.

But she made me realize how deep F1 goes. It’s not anything new, there’s people who have been fans of the sport for decades.

The resident and I said our awkward goodbyes before parting, and I rushed to get back on the field before the race started.

10 minutes. Now we wait.

I overhear on the radio that George Russell (Mercedes) was running first on the starting grid, with Lewis Hamilton in second. Along with pointed comments on the weather.

“It’s hot!”

“The drivers are also going to suffer today.”

Before the race started, the track was 50 degrees, I was surprised it wasn’t hotter.

Minutes pass and I heard a large roar on the radio from crowds. I knew the race was soon to start.

I couldn’t see the red lights turn off one by one, but I could feel the tension.

Suddenly, there was screeching roar from the cars. At the perfect time, the wind started to blow and the screams of the cars became louder.

George Russell was the first car I had seen with the others following not too far behind him. Everything happened at once, at a godly pace.

I let out a deep breath, but it wasn’t long before the cars came around a second time. All I could do was stare and follow the cars with my eyes. It felt cinematic as the cars zoomed past along with the breeze creating an illusion that you could feel the cars blow a slight kiss.

By the third lap, I grabbed my phone and took videos and photos as they breezed through.

A group of teenage boys beside me looked enamored and hyper-focused. They were just as quiet as me with a couple of them having their mouths open.

I wouldn’t have thought watching these cars fly by would be so entertaining, but they proved me wrong.

The sounds and colors were satisfying in their simplicity.

As an hour passed by, I got up to stretch my legs and take more photos. I walked to the fan section where the boards of the drivers were displayed.

I ran into two women decked in Ferrari merchandise.

Carine Tchokoansi and Vanessa Ngeudia were German residents from Cambodia, and have traveled to cheer on Lewis Hamilton. I asked the two women if I could ask them questions relating to the sport.

“What makes you guys interested in F1? What’s the most interesting aspect of this sport for you guys?”

“It’s a sport that I’ve been following for a while, like four years.”

Tchokoansi immediately dived into detail about her love for Lewis Hamilton.

“He’s somebody that I really love…he’s been evolving in this sport as a black guy. He’s my guy, so I will follow him. I’m here today for him.”

“I’m not really a fan. My husband is a really big fan, and he received the ticket as a gift for Christmas, so that’s why I’m here,” Ngeudia chimed in.

After thanking the women for their time, I walked over to a large screen showing the race, and that’s when I saw Lewis Hamilton taking the lead on the 57th lap. The race was almost over, and Hamilton was taking the lead.

I perked up at the screen in excitement. I was one out of around 15 people around the screen watching. I didn’t realize how fast time had flown by that we were already at the 57th lap.

Even better news. The team I decided to rep for was winning!!!

I stood in slight fear and anticipation, my instincts told me to quickly run away from the screen and find a good spot to see Hamilton potentially place first on the last lap.

I rushed to the nearest general admission section that allowed me a nice view, and pulled out my phone to record. As the cars flew by the crowd around me started to clap. I suspected that we were on our very last laps.

From an outsiders point of view, I looked like a proud parent recording their child score a goal for their school’s soccer team.Hamilton sped through the Qatar Airway sponsor billboard finishing his last lap, the crowds around me clapped and roared in unison, and I proudly joined them.

Seconds later, a great amount of people quickly grabbed their belongings to beat the terror of traffic to get on the train and busses.

However, I and many others stayed to watch the post-race celebration after the race on a large screen to see Hamilton claim his trophy.

It was an emotional sight, to see Hamilton shed tears of victory and happiness as he won his first Grand Prix for Ferrari.

I wore my bright red Ferrari shirt with pride.

Next to me, as the screen displayed Hamilton on the top of the podium, with the British national anthem playing, a group of British individuals sang their anthem with pride and performed a lively cheer.

Though I came into F1 looking to find more information on the cars, upgrades, and how the real mechanics of the motorsport works, I found something much more fulfilling.

Community.

An international community where many people all over the world gather to represent their favorite driver, build fandom, hang out with family or friends, and proudly represent their country and favorite drivers.

F1 is an experience to remember. On Friday, I recall the complete overwhelm and confusion I experienced to now cheering with strangers on the final race Sunday.

I arrived to get a deeper understanding of F1 and the cars, but happily left with a deeper understanding of the community.